


Hit the Showers

by inlightofvisa



Series: The McCall-Hale Diaries [11]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mild Language, jackson mostly in passing though, man there are a lot of men in this snippet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-08
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-11-13 19:50:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlightofvisa/pseuds/inlightofvisa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn't even go here!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the one where Isaac finds out and dude, he doesn't even go here!

**Author's Note:**

> http://indecentdrawer.tumblr.com/post/31000151115/he-doesnt-even-go-here  
> All Isaac wanted was to shower. It was not his intention to be naked in close proximity of sexy time.

Stiles cringes from the bench as Isaac gets shoulder-checked particular hard by Jackson. Not unusual. What is unusual is that Isaac doesn’t stay vertical.

“Lahey! Get up off the ground and keep running!” Coach yells, waving his clipboard in Isaac’s direction. Isaac continues to lay sprawled on the ground before struggling to his hands and knees, chest heaving. And then he throws up. “Aw, gross Lahey!”

Stiles snorts. Coach really should get used to the fact that sometimes, when Jackson actually like body-checks people instead of shoulder-checking them, they puke. Because Jackson is a rat bastard. Coach points from Isaac to Stiles.

“Stilinski, help Lahey over to the locker room. He’s done for the day,” he says, tweeting his whistle. “The rest of you, keep running!”

Stiles bumbles over towards Isaac and slings his downed teammate’s arm around his shoulder.

“You alright?” he asks, hoisting Isaac to his feet.

“I… think so,” Isaac gasps, holding his stomach. “Jackson checks _hard_.”

“Because Jackson is an asshole,” Stiles replies, moving them both towards the school.

“He’s just a dick,” Isaac contributes. “A great big bag of dicks.”

Stiles smiles brightly at Isaac as he shoves the door open.

“You’re pretty much right on the money,” he says. “Are you good?”

Isaac nods.

“Thanks for the help,” he says, shuffling off towards the showers and grabbing a towel. Stiles putters over to his locker, spinning the dial on the lock and swinging open the metal door. It squeals a little bit before banging on the locker next to it. Stiles is about to reach in to get his clothes when he feels two hands wrap around his chest.

“Hi,” a voice says in his ear. Stiles nearly jumps but really, it’s too bad that he’s used to these surprise… surprises from Derek that his jump reflex is nearly gone.

“What are you doing here, creeper?” Stiles asks, turning around and getting kissed by Derek on the cheek.

“Picking Scott up,” Derek breathes, his eyes closed and nose nuzzling Stiles’ cheek.

“They’re still out practicing,” Stiles squeaks as Derek _licks a stripe up his cheek_. Hot damn.

“I know,” Derek whispers back, eyelids hooded and eyebrow quirked.

Stiles’ mouth crashes against Derek’s in a heated frenzy, moaning loudly and hitching Derek’s shirts up while Derek tries to essentially rip Stiles’ spandex and lacrosse jersey off his body. They both miss a startled gasp from Isaac who ducks back behind the lockers, towel around his waist and another towel in hand.


	2. the one where Jackson can and will sue the pants off of you, just please put your pants back on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson's already seen Stiles' boner. Jackson doesn't need any more information about Stiles' genitals. He does not /want/ any more information about genitals. Why does the world think he does?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's only been forever...  
> http://indecentdrawer.tumblr.com/post/32201889446/jackson-is-not-impressed

Jackson doesn’t care what people tell him, he knows he has a hard life. It really _is,_ okay? It’s hard to deal with the buffoons that are Scott and Stiles, and the fact that Danny spends most of his time mooning over some new guy that transferred in, and talking with Lydia is such a _trying_ experience. So Jackson takes out all of his frustration and loneliness in lacrosse, checking his teammates a little harder than usual.

“Dude, stop being such a _dick_ ,” Greenberg yowls as he gets knocked to the ground for the fifth time during the scrimmage. Jackson snorts, rolling his eyes and offering Greenberg his stick, pulling him up off the ground unceremoniously.

“It’s not in nature to stop,” Danny snarks as he runs by. “Deal with it Greenberg!”

“What Danny said!” Coach yells from the sidelines, scribbling something on his clipboard furiously, tongue stuck out of his mouth at a jaunty angle. Jackson cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders. “Now we’re going to run that again, let’s go let’s _go_!”

Jackson runs back to his position as starter. He half-kneels on the ground, turf digging in comfortably to his knee. At the blast of Coach’s whistle, he pushes off and sweeps the ball in a lazy arc in back of him. Scott catches it (rat _bastard_ ) and charges across the line, lobbing it back to Jackson when someone checks him too hard. Jackson cradles the ball expertly (it’s not like he’s captain because he’s only _pretty_ ) and makes it almost to a perfect shooting distance when Isaac pops up and checks him. The ball stutters its way out of his net and bounces on the ground. Jackson roars as Isaac swoops on the ball and runs it halfway across the field before flinging it through the air to Stiles who whomps it expertly into the goal. He’d played only that _one_ freaking game when Jackson had been benched because some ass on the other team had come colliding into him like they were electrons in the hadron collider (Jackson isn’t as stupid as Lydia likes to think, it just takes him a bit longer to completely wrap his mind around things) and Stilinski was only “not Greenberg, because Greenberg _sucks_ ,” as Coach had put it. Jackson throws his stick on the ground as Coach blows his whistle.

“Bring it in, bring it in!” he says, eyes wild. “Now, we’re done with practice today so you all go take showers because you’re all disgusting.”

The rest of the boys shuffle off to the locker room, Stiles whispering something to Scott, Isaac, and Danny. Jackson stays on the field, shooting ball after ball at the goal. If he can just hit that one spot ten times in a row, then he can be done for the day. Then he’ll be good enough.

Jackson throws until his arms feel like they’re going to fall off, and then he makes his way back to the locker room only to find Danny, Scott, and Isaac huddled around the door. Jackson pulls off his sweaty helmet, hooking it through his fingers. “What are you losers doing? Except Danny, of course.”

Danny looks at him queerly (not exactly the right word, Jackson thinks, but still).

“You can’t go in quite yet,” Scott says, brandishing an arm as if it’ll stop Jackson from powering on through. Isaac whimpers something from beside him and Danny pats him on the arm.

“No, really,” Jackson says, crossing his arms and leveling his best glare at Scott. “Get out of the _way_.” Danny jerks his head.

“Just let him in,” he says coolly (because Danny _always_ has his back, even when he’s off being a space cadet over the new kid), and the three of them move towards the bathrooms.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Jackson hears Isaac say quietly. He snorts, pulling off his shirt and bursting through the doors to find Stiles pulling on a pair of boxers and Scott’s brother slipping back into his trademark leather jacket. Stiles turns beet red, and Scott’s brother just stares stonily back at him.

“Uh hey,” Stiles says, grinning sheepishly before he smacks a hand over his neck to hide the huge hickey that’s splashed across his skin. Jackson’s mouth puckers.

“If this happens _one_ more time,” he says, seething. Stiles stuffs his clothes into his bag and then pulls Scott’s brother back out the door.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll sue us, whatever,” he says, voice bouncing around off the walls. 


End file.
